Nothing interesting happens in Ohio, Corrine Cry was under that impression very early into her five hour drive via the Greyhound Bus.

When she had left Chicago that morning, she barely knew half the city names of Ohio until she found herself so bored in her trip that she was transfixed by every sign and billboard that passed them. Columbus 20 miles away. Dayton 60 miles away. Hell is Real, and it is in Ohio. However, none of those cities, if you could call them that, were her destination. Her destination was a small tiny town that only marked itself on one side along that long road. Shilling Creek. 

Corrine had never been to Shilling Creek, heck, she didn’t even remember ever going to Ohio before that day, but that was where Uncle Chester was. He wasn’t really her uncle, or someone she really even knew all too well. He was a hail mary, to Corrine anyway. 

And, he was prompt, she saw his beat up old station wagon enter the parking lot the moment the greyhound did. 

He got out of the car before the bus had even parked and did a hasty shuffle toward the door, waiting with two free hands to carry all that Corrine had to offer. 

Corrine was nervous getting off the bus. She was never good at talking to strangers, and that’s what Chester was, a stranger. She’d met him a handful of times, all before the age of 11, and now here at the age of 17, she was meeting him again for what felt like the first time. At least the circumstances were far different than they’d ever been. 

“Welcome to Shilling Creek, Corry,” he said with a curt nod and half a smile. He put out a hand, and it took Corrine a moment to realize he meant to shake her hand. It was a bit formal, but at that moment far better than a forced hug. 

She shook his hand, with an awkward rhythm, and it was around then Chester realized how strange it was to shake a teenager’s hand, especially one you’d just agreed to adopt.

“Your bags? I’ll take them.” 

“Oh, thanks, but,” Corrine only had one bag, slumped over her shoulder. She was hesitant to pass it off to Chester, but he had one hand stretched out to take it. Slowly, she pulled it off her arm and passed it to Chester, she should have warned him to carry it with two hands. 

“Whoa–” it almost went straight to the pavement, he managed to tighten his grip as it hovered around one inch off the ground. “Wow, that sure is heavy…” 

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you.” 

“Well–ah,” Chester threw the bag over his shoulder and immediately started to shrink, “you must be pretty strong, Corry.” 

“No, not really,” he turned back to her and saw she was making a sour expression.

Chester paused and muttered, “You still go by Corry?” 

In truth, she didn’t go by Corry, Corrine was always just Corrine to everyone but her dad. She didn’t want to say that, she already felt so guilty toward him, and the heavy dufflebag wasn’t helping. 

“It’s fine,” she said, not sure if she’d regret it or not. “Are you sure you can carry that–” 

“I’m alright,” Chester managed to squeeze out, “I may just need to circle back for your other bags.” 

“There are no other bags,” Corrine said. 

Chester whipped his head around and said, “Everything you own is in this dufflebag?” 

“Well,” Corrine shrugged, “I guess that’s why it’s so heavy.” 

In truth, most of Corrine’s belongings were in a storage unit in Chicago, waiting to be inherited when she turned 18. She just didn’t like to use the word “inherit” altogether. It felt like an admission of something Corrine didn’t want to believe. 

Chester did manage to make it to his station wagon, gently dropping the bag into the back seat before taking off. 

“You’ll have a day before school starts,” Chester began to say, “not a lot of time to settle in but that’s something.” 

“Okay.” Corrine felt awkward. “I guess I need to get school supplies tomorrow.” 

“I got you some stuff,” he said, “binders, notebook paper, a $200 calculator.” Corrine flipped her head toward him, he suddenly got nervous, “it wasn’t really that much–and don’t worry about it–I was just joking–” his voice trailed off into nothing, he swallowed some air and then the car was silent once again. 

Ultimately, the silence was worse than the conversation, and Corrine could tell that Chester had no clue if Corrine was sad or just awkward. Most adults could never tell with teenagers. 

 “Now, Corry, I know this is hard, and I’m sure you’re scared after what happened–”

“Chester, it’s okay,” Corrine said flatly, “I don’t need you to be my dad, or even really babysit me much. I’m 17, I’m almost old enough to live on my own, and I really appreciate you saving my skin here, but I don’t need a father…I have a dad. He’s just…missing is all.” 

Chester kept his lip zipped, “I know.” 

“I promise, I won’t be too much trouble,” Corrine said, “I’ll be good, I’ll stay out of trouble, I’ll do my own dishes and laundry. Just think of me as a roommate for the next year, you know?” 

He was silent for a while, and Corrine wondered if maybe the “roommate” status maybe sounded too disrespectful, but when Chester nodded his head and said, “If that’s what you want,” she felt that maybe they were on the same page. “But…” Or maybe not. 

He was silent for a while, and as he stopped at a red light, he took the time to look at Corrine, “I just ask you don’t keep secrets from me.” 

“Oh,” Corrine’s face twisted. “Like…”

“Like if you’re in trouble, tell me. Okay?” Chester sighed, “I get it, I ain’t yer dad, I’m just his old…friend…but,” he cleared his throat, “secrets can ruin a good thing. We gotta keep everything out in the open, okay?” He gave her a side eye, “Got it, roomie?” 

She almost laughed, “Okay, roomie, no secrets.” 

“Thank you,” he turned back to the street right as the light turned green. “No secrets.” 

It was a short drive to Chester’s house, which was far bigger than Corrine expected. Fall surrounded them, it being the beginning of October, but despite that, not a single leaf laid in the yard. Corrine could only imagine Chester spent all his time watching those trees with a basket ready to catch any falling leaves. The house was old, that’s for sure, and what immediately caught her eye was a stained glass window at the front of the house, a circle split into twelve panels. All in all, Corrine was puzzled how a man as simple as Chester had such a “historic” home. 

“It’s not all mine,” he said quickly, “I inherited the house from my grandma, then split it into three units, we’ve got the first and second floor, but part of the main floor is for the Bridges–and then Abby lives upstairs on the third floor, she’s in college.” 

“There’s a college in this town?” 

“Yes ma’am,” Chester said, “didn’t you know, your father taught there for a while. It’s how we met.” 

“Oh,” Corrine nodded her head, she couldn’t remember what her dad had told her about Chester. He mentioned him somewhat frequently, and he had come to visit quite a few times when she was little. However, at some point, Chester stopped visiting, and dad didn’t bring him up much either. “You were a student?” 

“Ah, no, I just worked in the cafeteria,” Chester said, “he once came into the cafeteria and made a big show to ask who made the veggie burgers. He kept asking what witchcraft I did to disguise the lack of meat…he was dramatic.” 

“He is,” Corrine nodded.

“Ah, I didn’t mean it like…” he trailed off. He scratched his head, “I’ll show you to your room.” 

Corrine’s bedroom was on the second floor, so Chester had an uncomfortable climb up the stairs to get to her room with her heavy duffle. 

As soon as they got into the room, Chester heaved a sigh and dropped the bag on the floor. He keeled over to catch his breath as Corrine took a look around. 

From her back window she could see yet another tree blowing yellow and orange leaves onto their lawn. She wondered if Chester might pounce at the sight of them to claim them before they hit the ground. 

“Now the bedding is kinda old,” this was true, the comforter was an old crocheted one, just one big granny square, if Corrine’s limited knowledge of fiber arts was correct. “When I got the house, there was a lot in storage…I’m not sure if it’s to your taste, so we can go shopping if you’d like–” 

“I like it,” Corrine said, sitting on the bed, she watched as Chester sat her belongings on the floor by the bed, then watched him with a subtle gaze begging him to leave her be. 

He complied and nodded his head, “I’ll let you get settled in,” he nodded, heading toward the door, he looked down at the bag on the floor and with a shaky breath, “I didn’t ask, did you want that on the bed?” 

Corrine watched as Chester’s exhausted eyes begged for her to say no. “Nah, it’s fine on the floor.” 

“Okay,” he sighed with relief, “I’ll get started on dinner and call you when it’s ready.” 

“Thank you, Chester,” Corrine said with a nod. 

“Call me if you need anything.” 

“Will do.” 

He left, but he didn’t close the door behind him. Corrine watched and listened as Chester’s footsteps faded into the house, then down the stairs. Then, still on the bed, she lifted her hand, whisked it to the side. Obedient to her command, the door shut itself. 

She slipped off her shoes, and cranked her hand into the shape of a square with another command. The duffle bag unzipped itself, her clothes rising from the inside and floating in the air. Corrine looked around for a closet, and with her other hand, willed it open. 

The clothes soon fell in line, each sliding onto a hanger and collecting in the closet as commanded. Her shoes, her sweaters, her hairbrush, all found their places around the room with passive swipes and movements from Corrine. It was a heavy bag, and even Corrine couldn’t carry it without breaking her back, but she had gotten good at making it look like she was carrying stuff, even when her body was only doing half the work. It also didn’t help Chester’s back that Corrine’s dufflebag could carry a great deal more than it looked like it could carry. 

After an entire wardrobe found its place in Corrine’s new closet, there were only two things left inside the bottomless dufflebag. These things she reached down to grab herself. 

The first was a framed photo, one of her dad and herself from one Christmas, the one he insisted on playing Santa at her school’s Christmas party, but he brought his own more “accurate” costume. Many of her classmates never recovered. It was her favorite picture with her dad, because she sat on his lap with the biggest smile she’d ever made before. All her teeth showing, her dimples like two piercings on her cheeks, and her dad dressed as a nightmare Santa Claus. Chester was correct. Her father is very dramatic. 

The second was a book, or a tome really. It read “School of Reality Magic”. 

“You hungry yet, Corry?” She could hear Chester call from the foot of the steps. “I got chili going!” 

“In a second,” she took the book and she slid it under her bed. She sighed, and as she sat up on her bed, she realized she’d already kept a secret from Chester, despite his one request. Two secrets, really. 

Secret one, she was a witch. 

Secret two, she actually hated chili, but Corrine didn’t have the heart to tell either of these facts to Chester at that time. One would blow his mind a little too much, the other would just make dinner awkward. 

So she bit her tongue, and then snaked her hand down under her bed to see if maybe she had a spell that could make it look like she was eating, when the food was just disappearing, preferably before it touched her tongue. 

Flipping through pages, she finally sighed as she read, “Vanishing spell, perfect.” 

She shut the book and threw it under her bed, then off she went downstairs. Twisting her hand through the air to shut the door behind her. The room settled, the spells concluding themselves as she vanished from the room. Now just whispers left by a young witch in a strange place in Ohio.